The Reunion
by awaywiththetardis
Summary: John has been trying to lead a normal life without Sherlock. Trying, and failing, for three years. Then he gets a call from who could only be sherlock, asking John to meet him.


It was wednesday again. John walked down the street, only a little part of him knew where he was going. he had groceries under one arm, the other holding his cane as he limped across the street, not paying attention to the fact that the traffic light was not yet red. He could hear car horns honking away at him, but he continued on his way.  
Finally, he made it home. 221B, Baker Street. Home. His home. Their home. It would always be their home. He dug the keys out of his pocket, struggling to open the door with both hands occupied. He almost unlocked it when his cell phone began to ring.  
"Not bloody now," John mumbled to himself. He swung the door open and walked up the stairs with slight haste. He threw the groceries down on the table and reached for his phone.

The number was blocked. John hesitated before answering it; he was always on edge these days. Trust issues. His therapist was right.

John decided to answer it anyway. He sighed.

"Hello?" He asked. Nothing but silence.

"He-" He began to ask again, before he was cut off by a startlingly familiar voice.

"John."

The second he heard the voice, John could not think. He could not breathe. He could not do anything. He knew that voice; he would never, could never, forget it even if he tried.

I small, involuntary noise escaped him and brought him back to his senses.

"Who is this?" John asked, his voice gravelly. He knew the answer, but he did not know what else to say.

"John," the voice said again.

"You listen to me, whoever this is," said john, his voice breaking as tears started to run down his cheeks. "This is not funny. Don't call here again." John hung up the phone, and regretted it immediately after. What if he did call back? What if he didn't? Either way, John did not know what to do. He sat down in his chair, head in his hands, letting the tears fall through his fingers. Then the phone rang again. He dove for it, almost knocking over the lamp in the process.

"Hello?" John said, out of breath.

"John, before you hang up again, just hear me out."

"Sherlock-" John breathed.

"Please John. I need you to meet me."

John was startled, but before thinking it over, the words "Sure, yeah of course" escaped his lips.

"Thank you. Meet me in the park in 10 minutes." Sherlock hung up the phone and John was immediately on his feet. He got his coat and rushed to the door. He stopped and turned around, facing himself in the mirror. He got a tissue from his pocket (he kept them with him at all times. Been crying a lot for the past 3 years.) and wiped his eyes. He put on a serious expression and nodded at his reflection, still unable to believe what was happening. He turned, went down the stairs and out the door.

In less than six minutes, John was at the park. He looked around for sherlock, but he was nowhere to be found. John looked at his watch. Well, he was early.

Four minutes later, Someone came into John's view. Someone tall. Someone with dark, curly hair and piercing eyes. Someone in a long, black coat and a blue scarf. Someone with cheekbones that could cut through metal.

"Sherlock," John breathed, so quietly he could barely hear it himself.

Sherlock walked closer to him as John rose from the bench he had been waiting on.

"John."

John's vision was blurry with tears.

"It's-" John started. "It's you."

Sherlock smirked. "Fantastic deduction, John. Yes, it is me." John saw a glimpse of a tear forming in Sherlock's eye, falling moments later.

The two men stared at each other. The army doctor and the consulting detective.

After a moment of silent crying, John rushed into Sherlock's arms. By this time, John was gasping for air between his tears, and Sherlock's face was wet.

"John," Sherlock started.

"How could you do this to me Sherlock," John whispered, the sound muffled by Sherlock's coat.

"I thought it best. I was trying to protect you."

John was silent for a few moments. "I... I missed you."

"I missed you too, John."

John pulled away from Sherlock's embrace and wiped the tears from his own eyes.

"So you said you needed to meet me?" John asked.

"Yes. Fancy a case?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock. Are you in trouble?" John asked, worry clear in his voice.

Sherlock smirked. "When am I not?"


End file.
